Up in the Clouds
by Umodin
Summary: Most people do not believe in reincarnation. Silvers Walter is not one of these people. After all, how could he not believe in it when this is his second shot at life? It is his first time having to deal with pirates, slavers and human-fish hybrids, however. Self Insert.
1. Prologue

Rayleigh hadn't had much of a chance to process this change in his life.

He had been out to sea for the past year. It had been the first anniversary of Roger's death when he set out from Sabaody, and while the trip lasted longer than expected, Rayleigh felt that it was worth it.

He had joined up with the crew of an old pirate friend on a journey towards Fishman Island, where he learned how to coat a ship for the journey from a Sea Forest researcher. A bering wolf-fish merman named Dan.

It was important to learn a trade from the best of them, Roger would always say, and Rayleigh found himself agreeing now that he was on the cusp of retiring from piracy. Perhaps he had one more adventure in his bones, but he was soon to be done. Dan was likely the best coating mechanic in the world, and Rayleigh liked to think he was now in the same league as the merman.

His return to the Sabaody Archipelago was meant to be simple. Yet, simple is never as it should be for the former first mate of Gol D. Roger. His return ship was run asunder when it was pushed into one of the giant mangrove tree roots by a heavy current, and Rayleigh would have died if not for the aid of a young octopus fishman named Hatchan that just happened to be in the area.

Nobody could call Rayleigh an ungrateful man. Hatchan had been near Sabaody because he longed to see it properly, but could not enter the Archipelago on his own, what with the open slave trade offering high prices for fishmen.

So, Rayleigh offered Hatchen a small tour of Grove 13, where he and his wife lived in their bar. Rayleigh had missed her, and Shakky enjoyed children. Surely, this would be a good visit.

And it was, only it had more surprises could have properly expected.

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Hatchan had enjoyed the small tour of the Grove, but he was young and grew tired quickly. Rayleigh saw that it was getting dark, and felt it best to let Hatchan stay the night.

Rayleigh had missed his home. Shakky's Rip-off Bar, it said on a piece of wood that Rayleigh had stolen when Shakky mentioned an interest in owning a bar over two decades back. Back when she was married to another man, though Rayleigh was quite interested in her all the same.

Located right on the base of a mangrove tree trunk, and situated on the top of a high hill, it was a sight that brought a smile on Rayleigh's weathered face. The two story building looked a tad more run down than he remembered, but Rayleigh did not mind. This was a bar meant for pirates, and a pirate was not meant for a life of luxury.

Holding two of Hatchan's six hands in his own, Rayleigh opened the front door of the bar. He breathed in deeply, the smell of rum, blood and sweat heavy. There weren't any people inside, though whether that was because Grove 13 was out of the way or Shakky's prices were too high, Rayleigh did not know. He did not care, either.

"Welcome." Shakky's voice rang from the back. "I'll be with you in a minute." Rayleigh found himself grinning, and after sitting Hatchan down on one of the barstools and promising the lad a glass of juice, he made his way inside.

A year without his wife, and almost nothing changed. Her black hair was in the same bob cut, and her youthful visage the same as it had been for the past fifty years. The only thing that was unusual in her appearance was that she did not have a cigarette in her mouth.

He was one of the few that knew why she still looked so young, even though she was older than he was. She had consumed a Devil Fruit, the Made-Made Fruit, a Paramecia. Upon eating it, her body was effectively kept in stasis. She could still become injured, could still get sick, but she had been cut from the natural human life-span. There was no question in his mind that she would outlive him due to her power, so it only made sense to make the best of their time together.

Shakky turned to him, her impassive black eyes widening only slightly, and she looked as if she would have embraced him if not for the bundle in her arms. It looked like a strangely folded blanket, colored a dark grey, and it took Rayleigh longer than he would like to admit to learn that there was something inside the blanket.

No, not something. Someone.

The baby was new.

It was a tiny thing. Rayleigh could not make out its face, for it was buried into Shakky's breast, feeding calmly from her tit. But, he could see a small, pale hand gripping his wife's shirt and a small tuft of curly black hair on its scalp.

"Rayleigh." Shakky greeted warmly. "You've missed a lot."

She adjusted her shirt so that it covered her body once more, and turned the infant over so that Rayleigh could get a good glimpse of its face.

Fragile is not a word Rayleigh often uses to describe the people he interacts with, but there was no better word to describe this creature. There were no distinctive features Rayleigh could see that would differentiate it to other infants, but all the same it had pudgy cheeks that were a rosy pink, and was staring him down with watery black eyes.

Rayleigh didn't ask for permission, he simply grabbed the babe from Shakky's arms, and held it as gently as he could.

"His name is Walter." Shakky said, and Rayleigh found his heart skip a beat.

That, that was a good name. A great name. He had mentioned that if he were to have a son, he would name the child as such. Silvers Walter, in remembrance of his younger brother, who died before he could truly live. He had died in the fire that took the Silvers family home in Loguetown, and it was why Rayleigh was ready to leave. Roger caught him, just as he was leaving port, and Rayleigh found his younger brother replaced with a brother in all but blood.

Yet, Rayleigh never did imagine actually having a son. It was a fanciful dream, one that he thought up before he was a pirate. Before he tasted all that life had to offer. Before the name Silvers became hunted.

"How long?" Rayleigh finally asked, his focus still held on his son's pink face.

"He's five months old." Shakky shrugged, and Rayleigh quickly did that math. That meant he had left Shakky when she was two months along. He was not there for the birth of his child.

What kind of man did that make him?

"A retired one." Shakky said, staring him down with a raised brow. Rayleigh jolted, and realized only a moment later that he had said that aloud.

Mechanically, he nodded, and Shakky smiled.

"Now, I hear banging coming from the bar." She said, and now that Rayleigh wasn't focused on his son, he could hear it as well. Six different beats, working in tandem against the wooden counter. Hatchan must have been impatient for his juice.

Upon telling Shakky such, and then explaining who the fishman child was, she just shook her head and grabbed a pitcher.

"You owe me for making me give away a free drink. It'll cost you Ƀ100,000."

For once, Rayleigh did not argue when she tried to make him pay an exorbitant price over goods that he already owned.

She had given him something priceless in return, after all.

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* * *

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It was three years later when the unusual occurred.

Life had been simple and complicated all the same, but the Silvers family were happy. It took time for the hardened Rayleigh and Shakky to adjust to their fragile creation, but they did as well as they could.

Yet, they knew they could not keep Walter away from their world.

He was raised in a pirate bar, and both of his parents were former pirates. It only made sense that piracy itself was an unavoidable part of his life.

They did not know how to tell believable stories meant for young children, and so decided to tell the true tales of their adventures. Perhaps that wasn't the smartest idea, but it was what they did in any case. They felt it silly to censor these tales, and so Walter learned the harsh truths of the world earlier than most.

Still, he was a good child. He learned quickly, and did not seem to ever intend to stop. Always interested in what was considered mundane, and constantly curious. Rayleigh remembered when he went fishing, and used a bubble bag to carry his catches home one day, only a few months back. Walter would not stop poking and prodding at the bubble bag, and it was then that Rayleigh determined that Walter's second birthday present would be a bubble making coral.

It was a strange gift, relatively cheap and only good for ten uses, but the smile Walter gave made it seem to be worth a fortune.

And yet, Walter's curiosity could be a painful thing to see.

.

.

It was a lazy Sunday.

Rayleigh did not have any coating jobs lined up, and he wasn't feeling inclined to swipe some belli from the unsuspecting. There was nothing wrong with having a day of drinking and relaxing.

So, there he sat, in one of the booths of his bar, his feet propped against a table and his flask in hand, reading the morning paper. The bar was devoid of customers, as was the commonplace. Shakky was busying herself by flipping through a boating magazine with Walter in her lap, going over the letters on the pages.

Rayleigh wasn't certain if children that weren't even two and a half years old should be able to read yet, but he didn't much care. It just showed that Walter was a good, smart lad.

His ears twitched as the familiar pitter patter of a group ascended the steps to the bar. Shakky heard it as well, for she sent Walter over to an empty booth, magazine in hand.

The pirates entered the bar not a moment later, and Rayleigh saw that they looked like most others did. Large, tough and ugly. The largest, toughest and ugliest of the lot seemed to be the captain, if the cloak draped over his shoulders was any indication. A Jolly Roger of a smoking skull with a trio of bones in the background was displayed on his chest. It was a well done tattoo if nothing else, Rayleigh thought.

"Oi, nee-chan, give me and my boys some rum, and keep it coming." The captain rumbled, taking a spot at the bar.

"Coming up," Shakky said, a bland smile on her face.

There was little talk still, and that was only broken for a brief moment when the small group toasted their first round of drinks. Then they began to drink more, and the noise level raised appropriately.

A small fight began, between the captain and one of his crew mates, and it ended with a loud laugh and a spilled pair of mugs. Rayleigh watched Shakky, and winced at the murder in her eyes. She hated it when people spilled her drinks, and only would abate her fury when paid.

"Oi, boss!" one of the crew mates crooned, a bald man with buck teeth and little brain. He was staring right at Walter. "How much do you think that one'll sell for?"

Rayleigh had to fight the urge to pummel this man. Walter had been told early on what slavery was, and that it was prominent on Sabaody due to its closeness to Mariejois. But, knowing what it was and that it existed was a far cry from being involved, and the stricken expression on his son's face told its own story.

"Doubt he'd be worth much," the captain mused, swaying in his seat.

"What do you know about money, captain? You spent all the coin we made!" Shouted another crew member.

"I know enough!" The captain roared, standing and walking drunkenly towards the crew member that spoke. He didn't get far, and instead planted his face right into the floor with a groan. His body dissolved into a thick, murky substance when he hit the floor.

How rare it was, to see a Logia on this side of the Grand Line.

Shakky clicked her tongue, "I think it's time for you boys to leave."

That bald pirate that was speaking of Walter as a piece of merchandise leered down at Shakky. "Alright, nee-chan, we'll get outa your hair. Why don't you come with us? I promise, you'll have a good time."

Shakky just snorted and folded her arms, "Your bill is Ƀ450,000."

"That's ridiculous!" The bald pirate roared. "This was barely Ƀ30,000 worth of booze!"

He must be the one in charge of finances, Rayleigh thought as he tried to reign in his temper. That was a fairly accurate statement.

Still, that did not mean Shakky had to agree.

"My bar, my prices. Your bill is Ƀ450,000."

The crew looked ready to fight, but a cackle and a muffled scream brought them to heel. Rayleigh had been paying attention wholly to the encounter between Shakky and the bald one, and didn't notice the captain. He cursed himself, blaming old age for the slip up. What a fool he was, not to keep his Haki stretched around this lot.

Craning his neck, he saw the captain was not as passed out as he appeared. The mud on the floor that was the captain had moved positions while Shakky argued with the bald man, and circled Walter. The lad was sinking into the muck, and the captain laughed with a sick smile. Walters screams were screeching and painful, and the murky substance covered the boy's mouth quickly, muffling the noise. His eyes were tearing up and his face was red.

"It's no problem boys, we'll just call in a tab after we make a trip to the HAH." The captain lazily stated as Walter sank. "The starting price for a human is Ƀ500,000. Get a good price for the kid, have some fun with the misses… A good day all around, right boys?"

They crew cheered, and Rayleigh's eyes hardened. This had gone on long enough.

Quick as a whip, he shot out from his booth and ripped the muck Walter was sinking into apart with his bare hands, coated in Haki. The action caused Walter to fall to the wooden floors of the bar with a deep gasp of air, and spurred the large captain into falling over. The sound of gunshot rang through the establishment.

Rayleigh did not turn towards the heavy sound, for his Haki was being actively used this time, and he knew that it was Shakky that fired the gun. Bodies thumped to the ground from behind him, and Rayleigh placed his hand on his son's shoulder.

"Walter," Rayleigh said, his voice hard and his gaze trained on the Devil Fruit user. "Head into the back, and don't come out until I say so."

The child did not need to be told twice. He bolted past Rayleigh, stepping on the face of one of the downed men, and dove over the counter into a roll. Shakky was still at the counter, her gun smoking and her eyes bored. Closing the back-room door behind him, the sound of a lock clicking was quick to be drowned out by the large captain's rage filled roar.

Rayleigh was not impressed, even as a pair of sharp swords sprouted from the captain's hands, and his legs gave way to a wave of thick, foul liquid that spread through the whole of the bar. It was not nearly the most impressive ability he had seen, and the man did not seem to know about Haki. This wouldn't even equate to being a fight.

Rayleigh did know that Walter deserved a piece of candy, though; he hadn't known the lad could move like that. It was impressive, and the lad was nearing the age where he could lightly train.

"Now," Rayleigh said as the captain charged. "Let's begin."

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* * *

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Huddled in the room where food was stored, Walter allowed himself to breathe out his relief. He knew his father was strong, in a league all his own, but even still, the helplessness that he felt just a moment ago stung.

It reminded him of what he used to be.

Before he was Silvers Walter. Before this fantastical world was his oyster. Back when he was a nobody, with no social standing and no achievements to speak of. Bland, boring. Another face in a crowd of bland and boring people.

Walter preferred not to think of what once was. This new life, unexpected as it was, was his escape from that dull existence.

Yet, here he was, huddled in the corner of a storage room. He knew he was young, he wasn't even three, but it still felt terrible to be in this position.

He knew that this world was not an easy place to live in, but he still made every effort to make due. Spending his days with his new mother, taking her attention away from her cigarettes and keeping his father company when he coated a ship, or fished, or lazed about.

It was a simple life, one where he just tried to make his parents happy. That was all that Walter needed.

But, reality had just crashed into him.

He was the son of Silvers Rayleigh, the Dark King; the first mate of the Roger Pirates. One of the most wanted men in the world. He would never be able to live a simple life, and his being a child would soon become a chore. His parents would need to protect him more and more, and he would become a burden.

Walter refused to become a burden.

This world was unforgiving. Slavery was abundant, piracy was the commonplace, the nobility were generally horrible and the law enforcement was oh so easy to avoid. Any crime could be committed, and the rule was that if you were the effected party, it was your own fault for being weak.

Walter is not stupid. He may not have been a particularly smart person, in the world that once was, but in the here and now, he is smart. He knows that this life cannot remain as it is, and he knows that he is lucky enough to be amongst people that can fix that.

The sound of a scream echoed past the locked door, and cut off just as quickly as it came. Walter didn't doubt that the screamer had just died. His parents may have been retired, but they were pirates, and they did not shy away from killing.

But, his eyes caught something moving on one of the fruit shelves.

Curious, Walter stood and looked inside. It was a hand of bananas, nearly ready to eat. The green was giving way to yellow slowly but surely.

Only, one of the bananas was doing no such thing.

It had shifted. Swirls were forming on it, and the banana began to change. It was still green, though not the green that the other bananas were colored like. It turned into a green that was more akin to the leaves of an old tree. Wispy tufts colored in a dull brown sprouted from the swirls, making the features of the fruit look like a dirt covered plant.

Walter did not know how this came to be, but he knew what it was. How could he not, when his parent's stories were of adventure and treasure?

A Devil Fruit had just spawned, right in front of him.

Walter was not sure if he believed in fate, but he did believe in a higher power. How else could he have been given a second chance in a world that was spawned from the mind of another man?

In his mind, there was no other way for him to be lucky enough to have a second chance. And, if this higher power wanted him to consume the fruit in front of him, then Walter would do so.

Gripping the Devil Fruit, Walter began to peel. The green and brown of the fruit's outer skin gave way to a black and purple inside. It looked bruised, and were it any other banana, Walter would throw it away for being old and nasty.

Instead, he took a large bite, and had to put both hands in front of his mouth to keep the substance down. It tasted terrible. A combination of soot, manure and vinegar that was both hot and cold, as well as overly sweet, sour and bitter. Unnatural, would be a good word to describe the taste of the fruit. Walter supposed that was another reason they were called the Devils Fruit.

Finally, he was able to swallow the foul fruit. It went down his throat painfully, feeling like wet concreate was being swallowed in its stead.

And then the door swung open.

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* * *

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Rayleigh might not enjoy interrogating people, but there was no denying he was good at it.

The pirate captain, a man who called himself Dan the Deep, had come to Sabaody for the HAH; the Human Auction House. He did not have any wares, luckily enough, but he was confident he could find some on the Archipelago.

Sadly, that belief was not unfounded. Sabaody was home to the worst percentage of kidnappers and slavers in the whole of the known world, and this had only increased when Roger challenged everybody to find One Piece.

Dan the Deep tried to explain away, that he _wasn't really going to sell the brat_ and that they could _double up on auction, make a quick beri together_.

Rayleigh did not need to hear anything else from this Dan the Deep. He simply killed the man. A quick and relatively painless Haki infused finger poke through the skull was all it took. Men that could not be redeemed, could not be reasoned with, did not need to taint the legacy that Roger left behind any further.

Shakky had finished on her end quicker than he did. She had been the sharp shooter of her crew, back when she was a pirate, and her skills had not dulled much. In the instant Rayleigh had freed Walter from Dan the Deep's grasp, she shot the whole of his crew. Some lived, some did not.

It mattered not, they were all dead by the end of it. She made sure to finish her work.

Since she killed more men, Shakky was on cleanup duty. That was their rule. A relatively simple job, she just needed to search the bodies for anything of value and throw them in the ocean afterwards.

Though, looking over at the muck covered bar and the apoplectic look that Shakky was sporting, Rayleigh decided that he would help her after he checked on Walter. To leave her on her own in this would not be smart, not in the slightest.

So, while Shakky looted their corpses and carried them out to sea, Rayleigh headed to the back room to retrieve his son.

Upon opening the door, however, he was greeted by a sight he had not expected to ever see.

Walter had just finished swallowing a piece of food. This was where they stored food, and so that was not an issue. It was expected. Food was a source of comfort, and Walter had just gone through some trauma.

But, in Walter's hand was a Devil Fruit.

Rayleigh had known that when a Devil Fruit eater died, the fruit would spawn into the nearest fruit of its origin. It was quite rare for a fruit to spawn nearby, and he remembered clearly that Roger had at least three types of every fruit they came across in storage. On the occasion, after a fight with a Devil Fruit user, when that enemy died, their fruit would then be reincarnated into the Oro Jackson's refrigerator. It wasn't necessarily common, but then again, neither were Devil Fruits.

It was through this method that Buggy received the Bara-Bara Fruit.

Yet, Rayleigh hadn't expected one of the fruit to spawn in his own damned house. Likely, it was Dan the Deep's fruit, since it was the only one that was nearby, unless one of his crew had their own ability.

Rushing to Walter and grabbing the boy by his jaw, Rayleigh pried his mouth open and dug his finger inside. He had intended to nudge the boy's uvula, in hopes that he would spit up whatever Devil Fruit he just ate.

Sadly, Rayleigh's hand just sifted through Walters mouth, digging past his neck. It felt like he was poking a finger through syrup. As he twisted Walter, he saw that his finger was poking through mud, not skin. The fruit's power had taken hold, and there was nothing that could be done for it.

Rayleigh sighed, feeling a new weight on his shoulders.

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* * *

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 **Alright, info time. Silvers Walter. Rayleigh was based off a 16-century English explorer called Sir Walter Raleigh. I just snatched the other part of the name for my guy. I like to think its creative.**

 **So, here's the deal. This is, once again, a Self-Insert. This time, instead of focusing on stupid comedy and general idiocy, I'll be giving this story its due. I don't have much of a plan for this story as of yet, I only know what direction it will go in as a general thought. All I can say is that this is going to be relatively based on Tsume Yuki's "Tell it to the Marines." She's an outstanding author, and if you haven't read her story yet, I highly recommend it.**

 **I know I'm going to get a little bit of flak for giving Walter a Devil Fruit so early, but I want him to do well. The Numa-Numa Fruit, the Swamp Swamp Fruit, is a Logia. Yes, I know that this is Caribou's fruit. It also happens to be my absolute favorite Devil Fruit in the whole of One Piece. Caribou didn't get enough screen time to satisfy me, so I decided to just nab it. I figured that since he didn't have any significant role in the series, outside of being a minor antagonist in the Fishman Island Arc, that it would be fine. If I get this story to the part where Caribou shows up, I'll worry then.**

 **Look up the fruit if you want, and you'll probably figure out why it's my favorite Devil Fruit. It's just- I love that power, and hopefully you'll all see why soon enough.**

 **If you liked this story, please Favorite/Follow it and give me those Reviews.**


	2. Barrels of fun

Walter had not expected this to occur when he ate the Devil Fruit.

Perhaps he expected power. After learning that the fruit he ate was one of the Logia, rare and revered, the belief that he was powerful was quick to come.

Punishment was another thing he expected. Both of his parents were pirates, and both knew the varied weaknesses of the Devil Fruits. His mother hated her confinement to land and boat, and his father chose not to eat one of the many fruits he came across in his pirate days due to his love of swimming.

Forever being unable to swim was a steep price to pay in this world, but one that could be ignored to Walter. Walter only had known the basics of the doggy paddle prior to consuming the Numa-Numa Fruit, and now he did not need to learn anything more.

It was not like it mattered in any case. He was far too young to go out on his own, and now he would never need to ponder the risk of voluntarily entering waters filled with dangerous fish. He would never swim. There was no taking back his choice.

Still, Walter did not much care about his hammer-like status in the water. The risk was well worth the reward.

And as the feeling of a bullet being shot through his body, being _absorbed_ into his body, Walter found the reward doubly worth the risk. He would have died if not for this power.

He ducks low into a roll, trying his best to avoid the next bullet that would come shortly. He knows that the person firing at him is going easy, using bullets that are not well aimed, that are not coated in Haki or made of Seastone.

But, as another bullet is absorbed into his right shoulder and the sound of gunshot rings through the air once more, he knows that going easy does not necessitate that this wasn't difficult. It was terribly hard, in fact. The hardest thing he has ever done.

"I won't have you rely on that power for everything!" His mother sounded as another bullet was shot, this time into his left ankle. "It's a crutch, you need to learn to dodge like the rest of us!"

"I'm only four!"

"And that means what, exactly?"

It meant that he had another bullet passing through his body, this time going directly through his brain. He instinctually crossed his eyes towards his forehead, staring as the butt of the bullet was lost inside the infinite space that now made up his body.

He knew that his mother was going easy on him, knew that she could hit a moving target from hundreds of feet away in the heart without much effort. That did not mean he appreciated being subject to this type of training.

It had been just over six months since he ate the Numa-Numa Fruit. At first, his parents were rather furious at him. His mother wanted to sell the fruit, since a Logia level Devil Fruit was easily worth around a billion Beri. His father was angry that he ate the fruit so young, before he could experience what the sea was like without fear for his life.

Yet, they were quick to hold back their anger and replace it with a constant surveillance. They watched him like a hawk. He no longer had any semblance of privacy, for one or both of them went everywhere with him, no matter the destination. It was only luck that they allowed him to stay in his bedroom, instead of sleeping in theirs.

Or, perhaps it was their desire to have their own privacy? Walter did not know, but he suspected that they needed their space just as much as he did.

The moment Walter turned four, his training began. He was too young to build muscle, and his legs were too short to increase speed. Instinct would come with experience, his father said, and this was not the place to gain that experience.

That left learning to dodge, and since his Devil Fruit gave him invulnerability to most forms of pain, his parents did not feel the need to hold much back. They did not use Haki or Seastone, but anything else was fair game in their minds.

Which is why he is currently trying to dodge bullets fired from a gun in his mother's hand. He was not having much success, but he was doing better than he had been before.

His mother cocked her gun once more and he tried to dive out of the way, but it did not work. He was shot once more, this time right into his ass cheek.

"I told you to dodge!"

Walter sighed, and almost regretted consuming the fruit.

Almost.

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* * *

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"Oi! Rayleigh!"

Rayleigh had been coating the deck of a galleon sized pirate ship when his name was called, and upon turning around he found a face uncomfortably close to his own. One that he knew quite well, the straw hat situated above crimson red hair wasn't something one could forget, after all.

The three-pronged scar going over his left eye was new.

"Shanks." Rayleigh greeted amiably, putting his tools down. "It's been a while."

The last time he saw the lad had been during the official disbanding of the Roger Pirates over seven years ago. Tears were shed that day by many, and Rayleigh hadn't paid much attention to the red-haired cabin boy.

Now though, now Shanks could not be called a boy. He was a grown man, and one with a reputation.

Rayleigh had been hearing rumors lately that kept his attention. Rumors of a pirate under the name Red Hair. A pirate Rayleigh later learned was one of the Oro Jackson's old cabin boys. A strong and well respected man, a pirate that was slowly but surely taking over Rogers old turf.

Some might have been indignant on that, but Rayleigh was not one of these people. Roger was dead, and the Roger Pirates dissolved. Better the land goes to a lad that used to be a part of the crew, to somebody strong, to somebody that Roger trusted. He wouldn't have given his old and trusted straw hat to just anyone.

"Man, it really has! You should come with us on a trip, it'd be great fun. No, more than that. You should join my crew! It'll be like the old days! Only, y'know, I won't be swabbing up the deck anymore."

Ah, but of course, how could Rayleigh forget? That Shanks was so much like Roger it almost hurt. Both had that wide, honest grin and that overpowering aura that would draw almost anybody in, and would only take no for an answer if there was an actual reason.

Rayleigh knew he would need to be smart with his words, lest he deal with a particularly annoying parasite for an unknown amount of time. Shanks and Roger were the same in that respect, if they weren't satisfied with an answer they would just stick around until they gained an answer that they were satisfied with.

"I'm afraid my days of piracy are over. My family wouldn't much appreciate it."

"Mmm, you married that one woman… Shappy, right?"

Rayleigh did allow himself to wince at the blatant butchering of his wife's name. "Shakky," he corrected.

Shanks snapped his fingers, eyes lit in recognition. "That's it! She owns that bar, right? She'll just have to join my crew, then you'll join too! Dahahaha! It's perfect!"

And with that, Shanks turned around and headed towards Shakky's Rip-off Bar.

Oh dear, Rayleigh had not expected that turn of events. Nor could he have properly expected his old cabin boy to turn out like this after all this time. He was not sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing, but it was surely going to be interesting.

It seemed Shanks was worse than Roger.

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It was lucky that Shanks had no clue where the bar was. With that, Rayleigh was able to return home before the red haired menace could, and had the chance to properly warn his wife.

And when Shanks and four others entered the bar only a few minutes later, Rayleigh felt that he was about to be entertained. Shanks' four companions merely ambled around the bar, but Shanks himself ran up to the counter and grabbed Shakky by the hand. That grin was going on full force.

"Shakky! Join me!"

Shakky slowly placed her free hand on her cheek in mock surprise. "My, it's been quite a while since I've been propositioned like this. And in front of my husband no less, how daring."

Shanks sputtered and Rayleigh laughed.

"But," Shakky continued. "I'm afraid you're a tad too young for me. I like my men with a little white in their hair, and red was never my color. I hope you understand. And, even if I wanted to join, I'm afraid Walter isn't ready to inherit the bar yet."

Shanks' face was slowly going as red as his hair, and his crew held nothing back in their humor. They were hacking out their laughs, pointing wildly at their captain and making lewd gestures.

Their captain just let out a huff and dropped Shakky's hand, "You could have just said no."

"No." Shakky said, and Shanks pouted.

Shanks then began to introduce his crew. Benn Beckman, his first mate and navigator. Yasopp, his sharp shooter and mechanic. Lucky Roo, his chef and armorer. They were loud and voracious men, and powerful. Good crewmates to have, Rayleigh thought.

And, as expected of a sharp shooter, Yasopp had the best eye. He caught movement in his peripheral, at one of the bar windows, and took a look while the other four were drinking their fill.

"Oi, who's the kid?" He asked, and the rest of the Red Hair Pirates bounded over to look at whatever caught the attention of the sniper.

It was Walter, training with a teenaged Hatchan. The octopus fishman was swinging his six swords wildly, while Walter did his best to dodge and land hits with a pair of blunted long daggers, which were more like proper swords in the arms of a small child such as he. Walter was having much better success against Hatchan than he ever had against Shakky or Rayleigh, though he was still losing.

It was a good decision on Shakky's part to ask Hatchan to train with Walter. At first, the fishman had been rightly annoyed that he was being asked to spar with a child, and the only reason the fishman accepted the request was for what he would receive in return. Swordsmanship lessons from the Dark King was an offer not many would deny.

Rayleigh did not intend to teach Hatchan the secrets of his personal style, those were for Walter and only for Walter, but there was nothing wrong with correcting flawed stances and giving Hatchan the occasional tip.

Already, he could see that this arrangement was working well for Walter. He was five now, turning six years old in only three months, and now looked the part of a proper child. The wide smile he wore as he sparred with Hatchan was something Rayleigh hadn't seen often enough for a boy of his age.

Perhaps he had been too hard-laced on the lad for eating that Devil Fruit. Being a human swamp was strange, but it came with a wonderful ability, this was something Rayleigh could readily admit. It was just that Walter ate the fruit when under his nose, and that chewed at Rayleigh something fierce. It was why he had Walter start on heavy training far earlier than he originally intended.

The results of this early training spoke plainly, however. He could spar on more than acceptable grounds with a near fully grown fishman. Hatchan may have been holding his full strength back and Walter may have heavily relied on his Devil Fruit ability, but it was still an impressive accomplishment.

"Ah, that's Walter." Shakky said from behind them.

"Who?" Shanks asked, watching the fight with interest.

Shanks sucked in a deep breath when Hatchan broke Walters defense, and a sword swung right down the middle of the child. His breath was let out in the form of a relieved gasp when the sword became stuck inside the kid's torso and then was absorbed into the boy's chest. When Walter's body reformed, and the fight began anew, the Red Haired pirates seemed to gather their wits.

"Kid's some type of Logia." Benn Beckman whistled.

"Maybe you should recruit this one captain. Might actually get somebody to say yes this time." Lucky Roo stated, his eyes fixed on the fight.

"Nah," Yasopp dismissed, eyes still trained on the fight. "You know the rule. Seventeen is the youngest the captain'll recruit."

Rayleigh turned an eye to Shanks, noting that the boisterous captain was oddly silent. The red haired man was staring at the fight with a critical eye, tuning out the words of his crew. Rayleigh had to wonder what was going through the man's head.

Suddenly, Shanks grins and opened the window, hopping into the fray, startling both child and fishman alike. That he pulls out his own saber and joins the fight with a childish fervor should be confounding. Yet, none of his crew look particularly disturbed. Resigned is a better word to describe them.

Rayleigh exchanged a look with his wife, and when she offered him a simple shrug he returned to look at the spar. His amusement grew into something fierce when Walter just grabbed Shank's sword by the blade and absorbed it into his hand, causing the ginger captain to screech his annoyance. Something about the desecration of what makes a sword fight a sword fight.

Pulling up a chair, Rayleigh just watched the show.

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* * *

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The bar was full for the first time in Walter's near six years of life.

The Red Haired pirates were a loud, boisterous and happy bunch that took over the bar in a fashion that Walter had never seen. It only made sense that the loudest and most boisterous of them took the title of captain.

Shanks was laughing as he sang old pirate songs, his arms wrapped around a pair of crew members that were not introduced, and both of his hands held tankards of ale that were spilling onto the wooden floors of the bar. Walter looked to his mother, and saw that she wasn't angered by the mess like she usually would be. Instead, she was looking far off, a wistful smile on her face, humming along with the Shanks's song.

Walter saw his father approach with a flask in hand and a similarly wistful smile on his face.

"Aren't you up a little late?" He asked, taking a seat at the booth Walter had claimed.

"It's too loud to sleep."

"Ah," his father sounded, nodding easily. "Are you having fun then?"

Walter bobbed his head up and down, keeping his eyes on the party. He had seen many pirates and mercenaries in this bar before, but never had there been a party in here. His mother always stopped them before they could happen, kicking the offending people out of the bar and taking their money for good measure.

"Why are you and mom smiling like that?" Walter asked. It wasn't unusual for them to stare off into space. It was unusual for them to do it at the same time, however. Especially with those smiles.

"Your mother and I were pirates," Rayleigh simply stated, putting his flask down on the table. "We don't often have the chance to see people from our old days, and we're just a little lost in the past. It's nothing to worry about."

Walter supposed he could understand, and he wasn't worried. He was jealous, to be perfectly honest.

He wanted to experience the world, just as his parents did. Whether he did that as a pirate, a marine or as a bounty hunter, Walter did not care.

Well, no. Walter would never be a marine, would never join the group that actively hunted his parents. They would use him as a scapegoat, should they find out his lineage. Then, it was quite likely that they would execute him just for being alive. Becoming a marine was not an option.

Walter just wanted to sail the sea, the sooner the better.

But, he was young. It was a truth, one that he did not like, but one he understood. Children were often taken advantage of on the open sea, his parents would say, and Walter knew that he couldn't even entertain the thought of sailing unless he was either old enough to go out on his own, or was under the banner of somebody his parents approved of. The people that his parents trusted were few and far between, and the majority of that small group were happily retired far away from Sabaody.

Eyes still trailed on the laughing and singing captain, Walter found a proverbial lightbulb flicker overhead.

It couldn't be that simple, could it?

"Dad?"

"Hm?"

"I think I know what I want for my sixth birthday."

Walter had turned to face his father fully, and saw that the older man had his eyes still on Shanks. That smile was plastered on his face still.

"Oh? What's caught your fancy?"

Walter swallowed, hoping and hoping and _hoping_ that this would be possible.

"I want to join Shanks's crew."

With that simple statement, Rayleigh finally swept his eyes away from the party and fully onto Walter, his smile now a flat line. There was a weight in that look, measuring and undiscernible, and Walter struggled to keep his eyes locked with his fathers.

His father took a moment to answer, a slow and lethargic span of time that had Walter sweating.

"Why?"

That, that wasn't a no.

"When we started training, you said that we would focus on dodging." Walter began, speaking as clearly as he could.

"Because you were too young to build muscle or speed." Rayleigh acknowledged curtly, cutting Walter off at the same time. "That doesn't answer my question."

Walter swallowed dryly. "You said that, that instinct comes with experience. I haven't had any experience, and- and you trust Shanks. So, I just thought…"

"You thought that if you traveled with Shanks, you would get that experience." Rayleigh finished, and Walter nodded.

There was no conversation between the pair of them for a time. Rayleigh was leaning back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. Walter just waited for his father's answer.

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* * *

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It was the dead of night as the Red Force sailed towards Paradise without a destination in mind, and Yasopp felt his stomach growl.

He drank far more than he ate during that night at Sabaody, where the crew partied it up at Shakky's bar, and he needed something in his stomach. A piece of fruit would suffice until Lucky Roo was willing to make a meal.

Standing from his hammock and exiting the cabin he shared with Benn, Yasopp made way towards the kitchen.

He was considerate enough to be quiet, tip toeing past the floor of drunkenly snoring and sprawled out men that took up the hull of the ship. That they were even able to return to the Red Force at all in their inebriated state was more impressive than the amount they drank.

Opening the kitchen door, Yasopp immediately spotted Lucky Roo. The fat man was snuggled up to a long stick of bread, drooling. Yasopp hoped he was asleep and not just being weird, for it was hard to tell when Lucky Roo was asleep with those red goggles, and the man was quite strange when it came to food.

Yasopp scanned the room, and saw that the fridge was blocked by Lucky Roo's leg, whilst the pantries of perishables were similarly blocked by other parts of his body.

Disappointed, Yasopp made to leave the kitchen. He wouldn't wake Lucky Roo up just to ask for a snack, for that would lead to a fight that Yasopp was too hungry and tired to win. Only the captain could get away with that, and Shanks would still be sporting a bruise or two by the time he got his food.

However, as he made to return to his cabin, Yasopp saw a trio of barrels in the corner of the room, on the far side of the kitchen entrance.

Yasopp was barely able to sift through the haze that was his drunken memory, blearily remembering that his captain purchases supplies from Shakky-san. The woman just pointed them to her storage room, and said to take what they needed. He had made a few newbies carry the barrels back to the Red Force, and made sure to stop them from taking too much. Shakky-san didn't need a raid.

Hopefully one of the barrels had some food.

Yasopp shimmied the first barrel around a bit. The insides swished around like water, and from the scent of it, Yasopp determined that this was alcohol. Not what he was after.

He tilted the second barrel over a bit to feel the weight of it. Whatever was inside, it was heavy and it filled the barrel up to the top. Yasopp could not exactly tell if it was a liquid or a solid, but there was no drink he was aware of that was this thick.

The barrel's lid was shut tight, but not so much that a bit of Haki wouldn't fix. Yasopp was not the best when it came to Armament, but he was decent enough. His fingers were coated in black, and he snapped the lid ever so slightly. It was a small thing, just enough that he could lift it without a struggle.

Peering inside, Yasopp was disappointed. There was no food and no booze, it was a barrel that held a whole lot of nothing.

It was just a barrel full of muck. Experimentally, Yasopp touched whatever was inside the barrel, and trained an eye on the substance stuck on his finger. It was thick and slimy, slowly rolling down his finger.

He had to wonder what the hell Shakky-san was doing with this in her bar. Surely, it didn't have a purpose.

Looking back down at the barrel, Yasopp found himself looking at more than a barrel of muck like he had been just a second ago.

He saw a face. A face he recognized, vaguely.

A curly top of black hair was splayed over a youthful face. Wide black eyes, pudgy pink cheeks, and a white toothed, crooked grin took shape on the child in the muck's face.

"Hi!"

Yasopp would forever deny that his knee-jerk reaction was to flinch and scream.

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* * *

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 **A/N: There we go! Chapter 2 is done. I hope that you all like the changes I made, I feel that they will make this series a good bit easier to write. I had a ton of trouble figuring out how to continue the original draft, and since there were only 3 chapters in the first iteration, I figured just a small retcon wouldn't hurt** _ **too**_ **badly.**

 **This needed a different take. I wanted to show the darker aspects of One Piece, and still do, but the way I went about it broke my personal taboos of writing, and that just would not do. It bothered me, to continue writing this with the way the last chapter of the original draft was made.**

 **I want to keep this story going. I had plans for Walter, and I didn't want to stop writing this just because I didn't like what I wrote the first time. So, I figured a change was in order. A change in scenery, a change in characterization, hell I even changed the Devil Fruit. I just wanted to completely escape the pit I got myself in the first time.**

 **How this change will turn out, nobody knows. But, there will be more chapters, so that's always good.**

 **If you liked this chapter, please Favorite/Follow and don't forget to Review.**


	3. Actions and consequences

Shanks was awoken by the sound of a woman screaming.

Contrary to how he acted, Shanks was not a person that handled being woken up well. In fact, he didn't handle it well at all. He liked to fight, eat, drink, party, fuck and sleep. When one of his favorite pastimes was interrupted, Shanks tended not to be a happy man.

So, the scream was both unwelcome, unpleasant, and just a bunch of un. Almost regrettably, Shanks was the captain of this ship, and that meant he needed to take care of any issues that came up on his boat. Even when he didn't want to be awake.

He sat up from his bed and stretched his Observation Haki, covering the whole of the Red Force. He could feel the general state of his crew. Most were still sleeping, some were startled awake, one was angry and two were both mortified and confused, their emotions all over the place.

Zeroing in on the mortification, he recognized one of the signatures to be Yasopp. The sharp shooter felt off, felt like he was just barely keeping his shit together. No, that wasn't right. He felt like he had lost his shit, and was just barely able to reign it back in.

The second signature, Shanks did not recognize. Male, child, a ball of excitement and confusion, along with a fraction of fear and a mass of curiosity. He felt off, not totally human, and strangely familiar.

Guessing that was where the scream came from, Shanks grabbed his straw hat, put on some pants and exited the captain's cabin, following the pair of signatures. They were in the kitchen, strangely enough. Or was that strange? Shanks didn't actually know, nor did he care. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

Opening the door, he saw Yasopp holding a barrel overhead, dunking it on the floor. Lucky Roo was stood behind the sharp shooter with a bread stick brandished like a sword, and the man was mad.

Shanks didn't actually know what to expect from this scene. Yasopp and Lucky Roo had always had a strange dynamic. That Yasopp was trying to get rid of something in a barrel, in the kitchen, would probably be the reason Lucky Roo was so angry. The goggle-wearing man was notoriously strange when it came to his food.

That Silvers Walter falls out of the barrel instead of food or booze just makes Shanks stop cold.

What the hell was he doing on the Red Force? What the hell was Yasopp doing to him? What the was he doing in a barrel? _What the hell was Shanks going to do when Rayleigh and Shakky found out?_

"What the hell?" He asked aloud.

Lucky Roo turned to him, snarling. "The kid stowed away!"

"I did not!" Walter said, crossing his arms with a huff.

"Then what were you doing in a damned barrel?"

Walter shifted, looking down at the floor. He mumbled something under his breath, and while Shanks could not make out the words, Yasopp took on a pained expression.

"Repeat that, nice and loud. I want the captain to hear exactly what you just said."

"I was sleeping!"

Yasopp rubbed at his forehead, groaning. "What kind of person sleeps in a barrel? Do you know how weird that sounds? Do you really think we're gonna believe that?"

"It's true!" Walter protested. "My Devil Fruit ability lets me stop being solid, and I can sleep anywhere like that. It's not my fault one of you grabbed my favorite barrel when I was inside. It even has my name on it, see?"

Shanks did in fact see a name on the barrel, carved clumsily into the side with what seemed to be a kitchen knife. He knew the kid had a Logia ability, and knew that most people had their quirks. Sleeping in a barrel was not nearly the weirdest shit he'd seen on the Red Force, and Shanks himself had a good few more oddities than just that.

He also knew that he did not want to be a part of this conversation. It was stupid, and stupid conversations were best to be had when he was fully awake.

"Yasopp," Shanks sighed. "Just put the kid back in the barrel, leave him in the kitchen. Lucky Roo, you'll look after him, just in case. We'll deal with this in the morning."

The men grumbled, but Shanks did not care. He also did not particularly care that putting the kid back into the barrel could be seen as cruel. If the boy said he liked barrels, he would get a damned barrel.

Shanks just wanted to go back to sleep.

.

The next morning, Shanks was wide awake and much more willing to deal with the situation.

He went into the kitchen and saw Lucky Roo cooking at the stove, and Walter at the bar with a plate of greens and a roll of bread. The kid did not look interested in the food, and was instead swiveling his head back and forth, looking around the kitchen.

Shanks grabbed a pitcher or ale from the fridge and plopped down next to the boy, snagging the roll off of Walter's plate, laughing when the kid glared. Biting into the hard bread, Shanks thought about how he would start this line of questioning.

Then he swallowed and decided that there was nothing to really think about.

"So, what are you doing here?"

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* * *

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"So, what are you doing here?"

To be honest, Walter wasn't even certain. He was quite happy to be on the Red Force, that much was true, but this wasn't a planned excursion. He hadn't even meant to leave the bar.

His father said no, after all.

.

" _No."_

 _Walter thought he misheard for a moment. But, as the answer rang in his ear he felt a wave of disappointment hit him like a punch to the gut_

" _Why?!" That his voice is whinier than intended, wetter too, does not escape his notice. He just did not expected such a blunt rejection from his father._

" _It's not needed." His father said simply, taking another drink from his flask. "You could only act as a cabin boy, and your mother and I can teach you everything you'll need to know."_

" _But Shanks was a cabin boy for you!"_

" _He was, and he was also an orphan going through a heavy struggle when we found him. Roger offered him a place in the crew just because that was the kind of person he was. You aren't an orphan, and you aren't struggling. You will learn everything you need to from us, so there's no reason for you to join up with Shanks. Just enjoy being a child while you can, the sea waits for everyone."_

 _The argument was solid, but Walter didn't have to like it._

 _Without even offering a nod, Walter got out of his booth and stomped his way towards the back of the bar. He needed to calm down. Temper tantrums were counterproductive, and Walter was not a fan of them in the first place._

 _He needed to reign himself in. He needed to sleep, to ignore everything that was happening in the main room where the party was happening. Where his father was._

 _The barrel in front of him was a source of comfort. Walter had claimed it for himself, carving his name into the wood for good measure. Often, he would sleep in the barrel for no reason. It gave Walter a sense of escape from the ever watchful eyes of his parents._

 _As he dissolved into a puddle of swampy muck and slithered through the cracks of the barrel, Walter motioned the lid fully into place from the inside. Though this was embarrassing, it was unusually easy for Walter to fall asleep in his dissolved form. There was no discomfort from beds that were too hard or soft, no stiff muscles and bones. He just was, and that calming feeling was what Walter desperately needed right now._

 _The sleep did not come easily, but it did come quicker than Walter expected._

 _And then he was awoken by the snapping of wood._

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"Like I said, I was asleep."

Shanks leveled Walter a stare, and Walter returned it. He was telling the truth. There was no reason to shy away from Shanks's gaze.

Now that he was here though, Walter did not intend to leave. His father might have said no, but Shanks didn't.

"Hey, can I join your crew?"

Shanks snorted, and burst out into a loud, aggravatingly patronizing laugh.

"Dahahahahaha! Why would I let a squirt like you join up with me?"

"You kidnapped me."

At that, Shanks stilled. Walter was not sure what was going through the ginger captains head, but at least the laughing stopped.

"No I didn't." Shanks said, his brows knit in confusion. He took a drink from his pitcher.

"Yes. You did. I was there, and now I'm here. I didn't come here on my own or by choice, thus I was kidnapped."

"But _I_ didn't do it."

"One of your crew did it. What the crew does reflects on the captain. That means you did it."

"We can take you back!"

Shanks was… whining? Walter wasn't actually sure, but he did know that the scarred man was not liking the way this conversation was going.

That meant he had to keep this conversation going.

"If you take me back, you'll have to deal with my parents."

"They like me. It'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

The red haired man stopped short, his lower lip being nibbled on by his surprisingly straight teeth. He took a moment to consider Walters words, and offered a grimace. Walter knew that his parents would not react well to learning that their son was on Shanks's ship, no matter who's fault it was. His father, more than his mother.

Then, Shanks snapped his fingers, pointing one at Walters face and grinning victoriously.

"I could just drop you off on Sabaody, make you walk back to the bar. Then I wouldn't have to deal with that."

A shocked breath.

"You wouldn't do that." Shanks was a good man, a smart man. He wouldn't leave a kid out on Sabaody on his own. He knew what would happen. That was just baiting the slavers.

Walter had heard story after story, read the Sabaody paper over and over again, and it was always the same. At least three children were taken from the Archipelago a month, every month without pause. It was estimated that two out of these three children were alone when taken, either from sneaking out or without a place to call their own or just bad luck. The slavers might know to stay away from his parents, but Walter was an unknown, and that meant he was fair game.

Shanks grumbled, but did not deny that he had a conscience. Lucky Roo dropped a plate of eggs and bacon in front of the captain, and the red haired man dove at his food, pointedly looking away from Walter.

Walter just took that chance to keep pitching his case, uninterrupted.

"Or, you could let me join you. It wouldn't be forever, just until you come back to Sabaody. I could just say I stowed away, and you didn't find out until you were too far away. The Calm Belt, maybe. I could even swab the deck for you, like you did for my dad. Wouldn't you like to say you paid him back by giving his kid a shot?"

"You talk way too smart for a brat."

"And you're going to die from liver failure someday. Can I join or what?"

Lucky Roo let out a sputtering laugh, hacking out a cough and trying to focus on cooking, though his body was still shaking. Shanks started eating his food loudly and obnoxiously, drowning out Walters words. Walter took the hint, and decided to suffer through the vegetables on his plate, letting Shanks think over his words.

Minutes passed in relative silence, should one ignore the ridiculous noise that Shanks was making with his mouth and the sizzling of the kitchen stove.

Finally, there was no more food on Shanks's plate.

"Why do you want to come with us so badly?"

It was a simple question, deserving the simple truth of it.

"I just want to sail the sea, and I don't want to wait till I'm of age."

It was a selfish thing, something Walter knew he didn't have the right to ask for. He should just wait, just go out to sea when he becomes old enough. Spare his parents the worry, give them their due time with him before he heads out to be his own man.

 _Should_ being the key word. Walter couldn't not try, not when this was all he wanted. To explore this vast and glorious world, to see all there was to see.

Shanks was drinking deeply from his pitcher now, and emptied the wooden mug with a deep gulp. The captain of the Red Force stared down at the empty cup, a pinched look on his face.

Then the man let out a put-upon sigh and snapped a hand out, tapping Walters head like a bongo drum.

"Guess we'll need to get you a vivre card, munchkin."

Walter made no effort to remove the smile on his face for the rest of the day.

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* * *

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Shakky watched her husband's worry with a touch of concern and a sliver of guilt. The man was going mad, searching the whole of Sabaody for their son. He was having no luck, and she knew he would continue not to have any.

Rayleigh would not find Walter on the archipelago. Walter was gone, well on his way towards the adventure he so desperately craved.

She orchestrated it to be so.

Her son was too curious for his own good, and even at the age of five was starting to go stir crazy in the monotony of his daily routine. Wake up, brush teeth, eat breakfast, do chores, train, eat lunch, train, study, train, shower, eat dinner, brush teeth, go to sleep. She doubted her stubborn son even realized that this was not the norm. How could he, when he didn't have any playmates, didn't have any relations with the children of Sabaody?

Shakky told herself again and again that she would give her all for her son. Give him every freedom she wasn't allowed by her own parents. That she wouldn't let him to be like she was as a child, locked up like a doll until she felt the genuine need to run away from home, stowing away on the hull of a marine vessel and boarding a pirate ship in the next island.

Inadvertently, she had done the same thing her parents did. She kept him away from other children, kept him close to her chest. At the time, she had reasoned that it was the right thing to do, that Walter needed all the training he could get.

It was only when the Red Hair pirates came that let Shakky see she was wrong. Let her see how he interacted with the crew and come to the realization that she was doing Walter a disservice.

Seeing how dejected the boy was after Rayleigh's rejection and that her son decided to commandeer his barrel for the rest of the night, Shakky decided that this was the perfect time to change things. That she would grant her son the freedom he so desperately craved and give him the chance to make memories that would last a lifetime, should Shanks accept him.

So, yes. She told Shanks's boys to buy the barrel Walter was in, counting it as a supply drop. There were plenty of islands near Sabaody that would give the Red Hair pirates the rest of their supplies, and just because Shanks was a good man did not mean he could not steal the rest of what he needed.

Hopefully, her son would be well on his way to the freedom he craved.

.

A week later, Shakky told Rayleigh the whole of it.

"You let me worry for _eight days_." Her husband's face was as calm as ever, but his eyes were hard and his voice held a steel that made her shiver. That this also made her a little randy, well that was just unexpected. This was not the conversation to steer to the bedroom though, and so she ignored the warmth between her legs.

"I thought I'd give him a head start." Because there was no question that Rayleigh would hunt their son down. It was just in his nature.

To be honest, Shakky preferred it that way. She loved her husband, but in the nineteen years they had been married, these past five years were the longest they had ever spent in each other's company. Shakky liked being a pirate's wife, liked keeping a home warm for when he would return, liked to listen with rapt attention as he regaled his journey in their shared bed.

Surely Walter would have story after story to tell, just like his father always did. Stories filled with a childish exuberance that were bound to be priceless.

In Shakky's mind, that made Walters joining up with Shanks all the better.

Sadly, Rayleigh did not agree.

"He's five, Shakky. _Five_. Roger didn't even take on Shanks until he was nine, and Buggy was eleven when he was picked up. Cabin boys don't start out younger than seven, you know that. I said no for a reason."

"It's really not as bad as it sounds, Rayleigh-"

"Not as bad as- I thought he was sold at the HAH! I was a just few days away from climbing the Red Line and storming Mariejois."

Which was why she felt guilty in the first place. Rayleigh had been examining the auction in the past week more and more with a fervor she hadn't seen in years. That fervor was worrying, often it meant something consequential would occur afterward, which was why she gave in and told Rayleigh the truth. If she waited any longer, her husband might have done something else, something irreversible.

Piracy was one thing, but storming Mariejois? That was revolution. She was glad she gave in to her guilt.

Rayleigh exhaled deeply, removing his glasses and rubbing at his eyes. He looked absolutely done with the world, and Shakky surprised even herself by smiling. Though the situation was rather strained, it was quite hard to make Rayleigh act like this.

"I'm going to leave tomorrow," he announced, staring her with that steely glint. "I'll find Walter, bring him back here, and he won't leave again until it's time. You aren't going to stop me."

Shakky had no intention to stop him in any case.

.

Rayleigh had left before the sun rose.

Shakky did not expect to wake up without her partner. He was always good about informing her when he was going to head out. He always made sure to let her know when he was leaving on a trip.

This was a trip that might take years, and he left without telling her.

She knew he was mad. Knew he wasn't talking. He didn't even allow her to help him pack.

But this was new. And not in a way that she enjoyed.

She rose from her bed and went about her morning routine. A quick shower, a breakfast of eggs and leftovers and a quick wipe down of the bar.

It was too quiet, she realized. She enjoyed silence, but had become accustomed to a havoc filled morning.

Hours passed, no customers came. She was bored enough to turn on the radio, the contraption had a talk show on, centered around tourists that had never visited Sabaody Park.

Another hour passed. One man came through the door, but did not buy anything. He asked for use of her restroom, was polite about it. She let it be, and he left without another glance.

Staring at the ceiling, Shakky sighed and lazily dug through a drawer of the bar. Her lighter and cigarettes were inside, dusty and unclean. It had been months since she last had one, on a day when Walter followed Rayleigh to the coating dock. She just had an itch at the time, a craving that only they could help. It wasn't like they hurt her, the Made-Made Fruit made it so her lungs would forever be clean.

Only now, she didn't have an itch.

She just needed something to fill up the hole she dug for herself.

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 **Hey there guys! The ending was a little sad, but every action has a reaction. Shakky orchestrating Walters journey did not sit well with Rayleigh, and it was only when he left that she realized that this wasn't the right way to go about it. Walter will be having his fun while Rayleigh will be struggling to catch him and Shakky with have to think on her actions. The works, right? Not nice, but the world isn't nice.**

 **How'd you like my portrayal of Shanks? He's simple, but that simple that's tricky to write. Because you know he's more complex than he seems, but he doesn't let that show unless a situation calls for it.**

 **I hope this chapter shows you a little bit more about Walter. He's a curious guy that just wants to do a bunch of things he didn't get the chance to do in his first life. Traveling is something I haven't really had the chance to do before, and I'm giving Walter my desire to see the rest of the world. Sadly, in my case the reason I can't do that is because I'm broke. But Fanfiction! Hooray!**

 **And remember, even though he's got the mind of an adult, he's a child too. He's going to have a bit of a temper, going to make mistakes and going to learn from them. It's part of the growing process.**

 **If you liked this chapter please Favorite/Follow this story and don't forget to send me a Review!**


	4. Donezo

**Hey there guys.**

 **To put it simply, I've been struggling with this story. My ideas have always been generalized and uninspired, and I don't really know how to continue. To tell the truth, I don't especially want to continue this story either. Up in the Clouds was my answer to making certain characters interact with each other in One Piece, and now I have another story to do that.**

 **I have recently posted a new story labeled "A Deer of a Different Sort". This story will be my focus in the One Piece universe.**

 **With that said, Up in the Clouds is being abandoned and put up for adoption. If anybody wishes to use my characters or scenarios and adopt, feel free. All I ask is that you message me with your intention. I'd love to have a conversation with you wonderful people about where you want to take the story. If you don't want to take it, I understand as well.**

 **If you have any interest in my writing, I highly recommend you check out A Deer of a Different Sort. It's quite different from Up in the Clouds, but will hopefully bring you to that place I want you all to go all the same.  
**


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